


The Last Time

by binukot



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, verkwan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 15:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13057293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binukot/pseuds/binukot
Summary: When Seungkwan heads to the city on his day off.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when my ship sunk. This was the result of that sadness. You've been warned!
> 
> This was first published on AFF.

It’s been a while since Seungkwan last had time for himself. He had busied himself with radio shows as soon as the team ended promotions for their latest album. He was in and out of the broadcasting station so he didn’t have the luxury to enjoy a break, even after all the running the team did to get their song everywhere. But now, finally, after several months of burying himself in work, he was rewarded with a day off.

He walks the streets near his company building. His every step echoes on the pavement, his boots clicking and clacking, as if in a lonely rhythm. He digs his hands in the pockets of his dark coat. He huffs, a puff of air coming out of his mouth. It was too cold. He shrinks himself into his turtle neck, white like the snow slowly blanketing the city. He scrunches up his nose, feeling a cold coming. He spots their usual coffee shop in the distance. It was the closest one to their company building and the boys frequented the shop when they felt like having anything but iced Americano. Seungkwan didn’t like coffee, it was too bitter for his liking, but he learned to love caramel macchiato. It was the only drink he could stomach and it gave just the right kick to stay awake.

He waits by the crossing, waiting for the go counter to stop so he could cross. People start to pile up beside him. He looks up. Snow was falling, endlessly pouring out from the gloomy sky. He blinks, his mind filling with thoughts of melancholy. The small white snowflakes were pretty, to Seungkwan it meant that the year was about to end and a new one was going to unfold. Ever since they debuted, snow made him smile. It didn’t seem so hopeless anymore. The helpless feeling of hard work, sweat, and uncertainty no longer lingered in the air. Now, more than a year after they’ve gotten recognition from the public, snow elicited happy excited feelings from Seungkwan. But today, for some reason, the white snow, slowly falling in an endless loop, made him feel sad.

The stop light blinks bright green and the counter starts to move. He sighs. People start to move before him. Like a sign, it seemed like the universe wanted him to move forward. Being melancholic was not how he wanted to spend his rare one day off. He struts across the street, leaving his morose feelings by the stop light.

Seungkwan pushes the door to the café open, the bell clinking a happy chime. The barista for the day smiles his way. Seungkwan smiles back, breathing in the comforting scent of coffee beans roasting. He orders his usual caramel macchiato and a slice of cake for the day. While waiting for his order, he settles in a cozy single sitter table in the corner. It was unlike him to sit so secluded, but he wanted to be alone with his thoughts and to not be bothered by other people’s chatter.

He opens his planner, taking out the black pen neatly inserted on the side. He looks through every page, reading every entry, checking his plans, what he achieved, and what he failed to accomplish. There was a lot more he wanted to do, he was just starting out as an entertainer. He’s just slowly putting himself out there, getting bits of recognition from the public. It was a slow start, but he was glad he was getting attention, no matter how little.

It wasn’t long before his order came. The waiter neatly places his coffee and cake on the table. Seungkwan smiles and gives a short thank you.

The waiter smiles back. “I thought you were going to sit with the others. I almost brought your orders there.”

“Hm?” Seungkwan looked up, confused.

The waiter gestured to the far end of the café. “Should I tell them you’re here?”

“Ah, no. I’ll let them know. Thanks.” He bows with a gentle smile.

The waiter smiles back and bows. “Enjoy your food, then. Thank you.”

As soon as the waiter disappears into the counter, Seungkwan lets out a sigh. A tinge of pain stings where his heart pounds. He gazes at the two boys huddled together, Vernon’s arm around Minghao’s shoulder. He whispers something on the red-haired boy’s ear, a smile forming on his lips. Minghao then hands him a macaroon, Vernon taking a contented bite out of the dessert from the boy’s fingers, their faces close to each other, almost grazing. Minghao licks his finger, a smile escaping his lips.

Seungkwan’s eyes water, a tear sliding down his cheek. He looks away, tears dripping like the flood gates were opened. He does not recall when it all started. Their close and intimate friendship becoming platonic. Their souls slowly drifting away. Regardless, it still hurt, like a stab to the chest. Seungkwan wipes a tear, his eyebrows scrunching up, a wave of sadness hitting him. He covers his face with his hand, holding his breath, hoping it would stop this unexpected outburst.

Vernon was special to him. Everyone knew it. The fans saw it. Vernon knew it. But they were adults now. It was useless to keep hanging on to things that will only amount to nothing but dependency. It was the last thing Seungkwan wanted to happen. He had plans, BIG plans. He needed to stand on his own. And if that meant letting go of his most comforting place in the world, then so be it.

He takes a deep breath, tears finally gone. He dabs the wet marks on his face, as if erasing all the hurt he’s going through. With a determined nudge, he looks at the two once again, his heart breaking into pieces. He swallows. His eyes watering. _You’re a fool, Seungkwan._ He tells himself, scribbling the same on the page for today. Tears drop on his planner, as if dancing a morose song. The ink blots and bleeds, his written words twisting into an illegible pattern. He hurriedly closes his planner and stuffs it into his ebony clutch bag, clipping it on his armpit. He stands, digging his hands in his pockets and steps into the snow, leaving his food untouched, cake and caramel macchiato looking bitter to the taste.

Tears rain down like the snow in a sad duet. Seungkwan struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his vision blurry. He slumps on a bench, cold and lonely. He takes out a dark beanie from his clutch and puts it over his head. The tears keep coming, sweet and fond memories piercing every inch of his poor beating heart. He was starting to shiver, but he stayed. He needed to let it all out. _This is the last._ He promises himself. 

 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vernon's POV

Seungkwan stares in the distance, still hunched on the bench. He sucks on his cheeks, twisting his lips in a kind of pucker. He crosses his legs, hands still in his pockets. His eyes are distant, droplets of tears still welled up in his lids, as if filling up and waiting to overflow. He blinks, a tear escapes, slides down his wet cheek, and lingers on his jaw, now sharp and prominent from a painful but successful diet. The snow scrunches up beside the bench as if someone stepped on them. Seungkwan looks up.

“Seungkwan-ah. Are you okay?” Wonwoo’s eyes look cold, but his eyebrows curl into a frown. He takes out his hands from the pocket of his bomber jacket and squats in front of the boy. He reaches his hand to Seungkwan’s cheeks and wipes them dry, his tears cold.

Wonwoo’s hands are warm to the touch. Seungkwan frowns, feeling a surge of sadness overflow. Tears flood his eyes once again. Wonwoo clicks his tongue. He stands, steps closer to the boy and pulls him into a hug, Seungkwan’s face on his sweater.

Seungkwan hugs Wonwoo’s waist, burying his face deep on the boy’s stomach, seeking more comfort. His beanie falls off and plops on the snowy ground.

Wonwoo looks down at the sobbing bush of blonde hair. He strokes his hair, a sad song playing in his heart. “Are you not gonna tell me?” He asks out of concern, wanting to extend as much help as he can.

Seungkwan shakes his head.

The mint haired boy clicks his tongue. He lifts Seungkwan’s head so he’d look up at him. “You’re boring.” He pinches his cheeks, a smirk on his face.

Seungkwan pouts, his eyes turning into an annoyed glare. He pulls away and leans his back on the bench, a sigh escaping him. After a moment, he speaks. “Thank you, Hyung.” An appreciative smile on his lips.

Wonwoo ruffles Seungkwan’s hair. “You wanna grab something to eat?” He smiles, pearly white teeth peeking out of his mouth.

The blonde beams, nose still red from crying. Eyes a bit puffy.

“I’ll buy then.” He grabs Seungkwan’s clutch bag and slips it under his arm, digging his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Seungkwan springs up, his boots clicking on the ground. He walks beside Wonwoo, shaking his hair so they’d fall into a fresh style on his forehead.

\--

Minghao pushes the door of the café open, the bell ringing that familiar sound, softly muted by the noise of passing cars. Vernon follows along, a paper bag in hand. He slings the handles on his wrist and digs his hands in the pockets of his pants. It was suddenly colder, his heart in a bind. The barista had handed them the paper bag as they headed out. Apparently Seungkwan had stopped by and left his food untouched. It was odd and it was even more troubling when the barista mentioned that the boy seemed to have been in tears as he left.

“What was that about?” Minghao asks as if he knew Vernon would know what was going on.

Vernon shrugs, his shoulders rising.

“Where do you think he went?” Minghao asks again, feeling the need to fill the silent cold air with conversation.

Vernon finally speaks up. “I don’t really know Hyung.”

Minghao fell silent It was an unexpected answer. “Should we look for him?” He suggested.

Vernon shook his head. A part of him wanted to look for the boy, run to his side, comfort him, but it wasn’t like him. He often just was there when Seungkwan needed him and now, maybe he wasn’t what he needed.

They come upon the park close to their company building. He spots a familiar blonde boy in a dark coat sitting on a snowy bench.

“Isn’t that Seungkwan?” Minghao points out.

Vernon nods. He can clearly see the sullen mood emanating from the hunched figure.

Minghao nudges him, as if saying he should go.

He freezes, witnessing someone else offer comfort to his best friend, witnessing someone else take the place he often stood during gloomy days, beside a crying Boo Seungkwan. His chest hurt. A tinge of jealousy strikes his heart, seeing Seungkwan embrace Wonwoo like how he used to with him. He suddenly missed the soft fluffy feeling of the boy’s hair. He used to do the same, stroke the boy’s hair while he cried his heart out for one last time before putting everything behind. He continues to stare, as if watching a drama unfold before his eyes.

Minghao eyes Vernon. It was strange to just stand in the middle of the park, but he couldn’t say anything else. The sad look on Vernon’s eyes, as if he was losing something important, stopped him from saying a word. It felt like he’d break and pop like a bubble if he’d be taken away from what he was seeing. He stood and watched as things happened like the end scene of a tragic love story.

Vernon feels his chest scrunch up, the pain coming out as a lonely tear sliding down his cheek. Seungkwan’s usual smile after a good cry hits him. He suddenly felt unneeded. His feet take him forward, following along as Wonwoo and Seungkwan leave the park. Vernon stops where Seungkwan was. He picks up the boy’s black beanie on the ground, soaked and cold. He stuffs it in his jacket. The beanie bleeds into the pocket, the cold wetness spreading to the side of his shirt. He walks, his strides heavy. He stops as they reach the crossroads.

“Should we go after them?” Minghao asks, just to hear the sullen boy speak.

Vernon shakes his head, looking at the two backs becoming more distant, their shoulders occasionally bumping on the other. He turns to the opposite direction, his shoes sinking into the snow, leaving traces of sadness with every step.

 


End file.
